On January 1st, I turned 31. Honestly, I don’t feel a day over 27. Except when young punks call me “some old lady.” You see, I will never, ever wish I was in my twenties for the rest of my life. Mostly because once you hit your 30s people take you seriously even if you’re full of it. Well, unless you’re the Mother Trucker and you’ve suddenly decided that marriage is a sin when you’re older. She thinks the Bible told her so. That right folks, she and The Prophet may be getting a divorce. Do I hear a yeehaw anyone?
Which also means if she goes through with this that she probably won’t visit us anymore. Because dude, she’s even cheaper than we are.
Anyway, back to my birthday present.
Last year, before Jeebus and Beavis moved out my husband began on an adventurous project of building a shed with a clubhouse on top. Our kids’ wooden swingset was literally on the verge of breaking one of their legs so we had to demolish the safety hazard. However, I knew that having both a shed and clubhouse in our yard would cramp things up, so we came up with the idea of putting the clubhouse on top of the shed.
My husband worked and worked until the shed was complete and then declared that it was too cold outside to continue.
(That white stuff on the ground is snow.)
A couple months later when it was spring he finished the clubhouse for the most part, then declared it too hot to continue. To be fair, we did have the hottest summer on record ever here in the Dallas Texas area.
(You can see the old wooden swingset in this video. You can also hear my oldest telling my youngest he smells like poop.)
Then something amazing happened. On my birthday, four days ago, he finished the clubhouse, the steps, the slide, and the ladder. I haven’t been more happy in my married life.
And now my husband is not only the coolest dad on the block, but also the coolest husband. Ever.
I’m just afraid of him starting another project.
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